


Sigrold Week 2019

by MrMundy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Deity Au, First Meetings, M/M, Roommates, Sigrold Ship Week 2019, Tabletop games, implied poly ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21566764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMundy/pseuds/MrMundy
Summary: The prompt fills for Sigrold Week 2019, bundled into one fic for my ease. Tags will be updated as it goes.
Relationships: Dr. Harold Winston/Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. Beginnings

Lucheng had set up some sort of program for those moving to Lijiang for their internships that set students up with others to share housing. It made it easier to afford, and the students were able to choose their own roommates based on questionnaires filled in when they applied. Siebren had made sure that his roommate’s habits matched his own, and they’d messaged back and forth for the past month to prepare to meet. They hadn’t really butted heads at any point so far, so he had high hopes for the living situation that awaited him - he was arriving a week after his roommate had already settled in.

...With some of his things. He’d mailed them over so he wouldn’t have to pack himself in with too much, and his roommate had sent photos of the boxes that had arrived. The last photo he’d received was of his roommate’s face partially in the frame with a pile of boxes in an otherwise empty bedroom. The caption had been some sort of pun in English that had taken Siebren a few moments to understand. 

( Once he had, it had amused him to no end and he’d made sure his roommate knew he appreciated the joke. )

That had been a day or so ago - Siebren was tired after getting off of his flight, finding his way to the shuttle that would take him to Lucheng’s housing area. He nearly fell asleep on the way there, kept awake only by the sudden flashing of light as they passed by shops and streetlamps, everything lit up in bright reds and yellows and neon. 

When they stopped in front of the apartments, Siebren had to steady himself as he stood, wobbling from his sleepiness. He hauled his suitcase of clothing out of the trunk of the car and waved the driver off, repeating the apartment number in his head ( 23, 23, 23 ) as he went up the stairs to the second level. The door was one of the first ones on the floor, and as he approached he realized that he didn’t have his keys yet.

He frowned and then knocked on the door, hoping that his roommate was around at… He pulled his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the time. 

Half past midnight.

A minute passed and he raised his hand to knock again when the door swung open and he was faced with a very excited looking young man, glasses askew on his face and delight written across his face.

“You must be Siebren!” He said, and Siebren noted that his English was very clear.

“Yes, that’s me,” Siebren said, leaning slightly on his suitcase’s handle. 

“Harold Winston.” His roommate said, and instead of sticking his hand out for a handshake as Siebren expected, he stepped out of the way to usher Siebren inside. 

“I remember. It’s not like we’re complete strangers,” Siebren teased, looking around as he stepped inside. Everything was mostly neat, aside from the couch that was obviously being used, blankets pulled up and an open laptop sitting on the arm. 

“Yeah. Sorry, I get nervous.” Harold laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “ _ Man _ , you’re tall. Hopefully these beds they’ve given us are big enough for you.”

“If they’re not, I’ll steal yours to make mine longer.” Siebren said, nudging Harold’s arm. Harold laughed again, adjusting his glasses afterward. 

“You do that and I’m still sleeping on mine. Watch out, I’m a cuddler.”

“Like I mind.” Siebren laughed, and realized then that his tiredness had receded significantly. 

“So,” Harold said, after a moment of quiet between them, “You wanna see which room is yours?”

Siebren nodded, and followed after Harold as he led him down a hallway. One side of it opened up into the kitchen, and Harold pointed out that the door after that was the bathroom. Then on the other side was Harold’s room, and at the end of the hall was Siebren’s. He opened the door and looked around, pleased to see each of his boxes stacked up neatly on one side of the room, and a bed with plain sheets on the other side.

“Hm,” He said, stepping in and crossing his arms, “It does look rather small…”

“You were joking about the bed thing, right?” Harold said, raising a brow. Siebren turned to look at him, attempting to keep his face serious, but broke at the last second. 

“I was, don’t worry.” He said, and patted Harold on the arm. Harold laughed again, and Siebren came to the conclusion that his stay with Lucheng was going to be very fun indeed.

  
  


“Man, my game got cancelled  _ again _ .” Harold huffed, dropping onto the couch beside Siebren. They’d been living together a week and had come to find that their lifestyles matched perfectly. Siebren looked over at Harold.

“Game?” He asked, and Harold’s expression went from surprise at being questioned to embarrassment. 

“Yeah, uh. D&D.” Harold said, sheepish, and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Wait, wait, you play Dungeons and Dragons?” Siebren said, adjusting his posture to turn slightly toward Harold.

“Yeah, okay, I do. I totally look like the type of guy who does, right?”

“You act like I’m upset to find out about this.” Siebren said, “What edition?”

“Seventh,” Harold said, raising a brow. Siebren made a happy sound, setting down his mug.

“And - let me guess, you play a halfling rogue or something?” 

“No way, no.” Harold laughed, catching on to the turn of the conversation. “A Tabaxi sorcerer.”

“I can’t believe it,” Siebren said, faking a dramatic moment with a hand to his forehead. “My roommate is a furry. A magic furry.”

“Hey, listen, Tabaxi are the coolest race.” Harold said, pointing a finger at Siebren playfully. Siebren rolled his eyes in much the same way, scoffing. 

“That’s what you think. Play an Aasimar warlock and then talk to me, Harold.”

“At least we’ve got one thing in common here,” Harold said, looking over his glasses. Siebren raised a brow.

“Spellcasters.” Harold said, simply.

“Spellcasters.” Siebren nodded.

  
  


It turned out that the both of them having an interest in a single tabletop game had its advantages. They started a new game with a few other students ( Shion Yoshida had jumped at the chance, and had dragged their roommate Petrusko Nevsky along ) and bonded over the adventure. Another intern named Kofi Flores had hopped in to take on the role of Dungeon Master, and the five formed a story that went from humble beginnings in a small tavern to the four heroes defeating a dracolich and her underlings.

Years later, they still joked about it between testing and experimentation on the Lunar Colony. They sometimes revisited their old adventure, playing games when they had the time to spare. It was rare, but it was fun for them to bring back their old gameworld and invite some of the other lunar scientists in. 

And if Siebren's character flirted a bit with Harold's in their new games, well…

Nobody batted an eye.


	2. Celestial Bodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deity AU - not just Sigrold, but ultimately Sighardtrold - though the focus here is Siebren and Harold and their kids.

_ At first, there were the Stars. Endless, twinkling lights throughout the dark of space. Time began and ended with the stars, existing before everything and after everything would be gone. But the Stars were lonely, and wished into existence a lover. _

_ From the stars came the Sun, a singular source of heat. Bright, hot, and cheerful, the Sun warmed the dark of space and brought new beings toward it. From the Sun came the Earth, who was watched closely by the Stars and the Sun as though it were their child. _

_ And from that, a need for another arose, a guardian for the young Earth. An old spirit from the dark of space formed into the Moon, who spent its days and nights guiding the Earth and keeping its skies brightened for the previously dark nights. _

_ The three spent their centuries happily. And then life began to form upon the Earth, and suddenly there were people who saw the three as their gods. They would speak in hushed whispers to them, asking for blessings upon their lives, their lands, and their families. And they would grant the wishes, though their understanding of human nature would sometimes lead to less-than-perfect results.  _

_ At times, the humans would wish on Stars that fell from the night sky. They found that wishes on the falling Stars would most often come true, and they began to see falling Stars as beacons of luck and good fortune. _

_ As it turns out, the falling Stars were able to understand the people better. They'd tell the Sun and the Stars and the Moon about the wishes, and they'd come true.  _

_ Eventually, the Stars, the Sun, and the Moon each wanted to be closer to the humans they'd become the guardians of. So they formed themselves mortal bodies and walked among their people, listening firsthand to their wishes and seeing just how they lived in hopes of understanding them better. _

  
  
  


“So you’re the moon,” Milou said, sitting on the edge of her bed. Harold nodded, reaching over to ruffle her dark hair. Winston, still enraptured by the story, tilted his head up at Harold.

“And who do you think the rest are?” He asked, watching as her face turned focused as she thought.

“Pa’s the stars.” She said, “And Papa’s the sun, ‘cause he’s always smiling.”

“That’s right,” Harold said, and looked down at Winston. “And what about the other two?”

Winston made a face, looking between himself and Milou before pointing at the two of them in turn. Harold smiled, nodding again.

“Yeah, you got that. You’re the Earth,” Harold said, reaching over to tap Winston’s nose, making him go cross-eyed for a moment before turning to look at Milou once again. “And you’re the stars that people wish on.”

"But if Pa is already the stars, why are falling ones different?" 

"Because," Harold said, "Falling stars are symbols of luck and wishes. And we're lucky to have you and your brother."

“Did you wish for us?” Milou asked, and Harold turned his gaze upward just in time to see Siebren peek in and lean against the doorframe.

“Of course.” Harold said, standing slowly. “How do you think we ended up with two great kids?”

Milou and Winston both lit up, and Harold laughed as he moved to scoop Winston into his arms to put him into his bed. Milou scuttled under her covers just in time for Harold to lean over and kiss her forehead, and Winston curled up with his favored blanket moments later. As he left the room, Harold turned the light off and looked over the scene with a soft gaze before shutting the door and leaning into Siebren, who’d meandered into the middle of the hallway.

“They still think it’s all a fairy tale, hm?” Siebren said. Harold shrugged, and they began walking down the hall together.

“Apparently. I think our next best option is just to show them.” Harold stuck his hands into his pockets, and Siebren sighed.

“Maybe in a few years. When we did this, I didn’t expect them to be literal children.” Siebren said. 

“Suppose we should have expected it,” Harold said, “Compared to us, they  _ are  _ pretty young.”

“Hm. I suppose. I just don’t get why that translated to them being _ so  _ young in mortal bodies.”

“There’s a lot we didn’t know about mortal bodies.”

Siebren laughed. His eyes sparkled for a moment, betraying the Stars behind them.

“Very true. Let’s go meet Reinhardt, hm?” Siebren said, sliding his arm around Harold's waist. Harold leaned up into him, and they went together to greet the setting sun.   
  
  



	3. Sweet Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harold makes snacks.

“Don’t put your fingers in that!” Harold’s voice travelled through the kitchens, causing Siebren to poke his head into the doorway. The scene that lay before him was something he didn’t think he could have ever predicted: Harold Winston in an apron over his casualwear, and one Winston the gorilla sitting on the counter near him, hands reaching for a bowl that Harold was now holding above his head.

“What’s going on here?” Siebren asked, stepping through the doorway and toward the counter. Harold met his gaze and heaved a sigh, quickly glancing at Winston.

“I was making something,” he said, “When the little guy thought that sticking his hands in melted marshmallow was the best idea.”

Sure enough, Winston had his little hands covered in marshmallow, and he was gleefully licking it from his hands. Siebren raised a brow.

“Is that safe for him to eat?”

“Yes, it’s fine, but… I have to make more, now. I don’t want to give this to everyone.” Harold said, lowering the bowl and staring down into it. “I made him wash his hands, but… I dunno, he uses them to walk. It’s like washing your feet before using them to cook.”

“Isn’t that how some wines are made?” Siebren asked, leaning against the counter. Winston stared at him, wide-eyed, for several moments before resuming his task of cleaning the marshmallow off his hands. 

“I think you’re supposed to wear special footwear for that - Not my point, Sieb.” Harold said with a huff, sticking his lower lip out in a pout. 

“Wonder if you can use that for anything else. Would the other subjects like it?” Siebren said, and Harold stared down into the bowl again.

“I can start over, and... I’m sure they’d love it. What’s the worst that could happen if I let them have this?”

“Hm.” Siebren turned, leaning his back against the counter instead of his front. He counted off on his fingers as he spoke. “A mess in their enclosures, a mess in their fur, fighting over the last bits, a sugar rush-”

Harold scoffed, setting the bowl onto the counter and getting several bowls from the cupboards.

“You make it sound like a terrible idea. Why’d you suggest it in the first place?”

“Because they’d probably love it. I just know what to expect. I have a kid back home, remember.” Siebren said, turning his head to wink at Harold. 

“Yeah, I guess you have more experience with this kind of thing than me.”

Siebren teamed up with Harold and soon enough they had bowls full of marshmallow, and they handed one off to Winston with a spoon and directed him to use it or else he was getting a bath that night. Afterward, they went through Horizon’s halls and handed off bowls to the other subjects, warning them much the same and raising some eyebrows at their actions. Flores voiced concern but was reassured by Harold, and the rest of the night was quieter than usual as the apes happily partook in their snack.

Afterward, Harold got Siebren back into the kitchen and they settled in to making another batch of what Harold was working on before. 

"So, these are…" Siebren looked over the cookies Harold was handling, watching as he squished marshmallow between two and set each sticky pair down.

"Moon pies. My dad used to make them - he was from Georgia." Harold paused, glancing at the numerous cookies already lining the counter. "The, uh, American state, Georgia."

"A popular thing there, then?" Siebren asked, and Harold answered with a nod.

"Very popular. At least, in his hometown. He moved to China with my mom when they got married, and… I don't know. His way of showing me what he grew up with." Harold sandwiched another set of cookies together, staring down at them wistfully.

"He sounds like he had some fun stories." Siebren said, inching closer to Harold. Harold smiled.

"Yeah. He did." After a few moments of quiet, Harold cleared his throat and set the cookies down, reaching for a bowl of chocolate. "I've gotta melt this. Make sure Winston doesn't snag anything, alright?"

Siebren nodded and leaned against the counter, ducking down sightly so Harold could press a kiss to his cheek. Harold hummed, happy, and focused on finishing his work.

By the end of the night, they had a pile of moon pies and Harold invited the other scientists to share them. Winston sat at the end of a long couch, nibbling at a half of a pie that had been split between him and Simon. Siebren sat with his arm over the headrest, behind Harold, and Harold scooted up into his side. Nobody batted an eye.

"Can't say these are like anything back home," Siebren said, eyeing the marshmallow inside the cookies, "But they are lovely."

"Yeah? I'm glad." Harold smiled, and nudged against Siebren. 


	4. Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sight prompt ( and perhaps a bit of the Halloween one as well, Harold isn't all human after all ), featuring Oracle Siebren and Moon Researcher Harold. A fantasy au, essentially.

“So, you can’t see.” Harold said, reaching to take a large, rolled-up scroll from the shelf above his head. Siebren sat nearby, pale hair unwrapped from its usual bun and draping over his shoulders. He raised a brow at Harold’s question, though the motion was slightly hidden by the green cloth wrapped around his eyes.

“I cannot,” Siebren replied, “But I can See.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harold asked, dropping into the chair near his writing desk as he unrolled the parchment with careful hands. Intricate runes trailed over the page, weaving their way into a large ring and around larger runes to form some strange image over the paper.

“I cannot see, not in a normal sense. But I can  _ See _ better than anyone else.” Siebren said, leaning back and raising his hand in the air to motion as he spoke. “I can see the turning of the universe, the way that the stars line together to predict each and every little thing that’s supposed to happen.”

“So you know… Everything.” Harold said, and slowly a realization dawned on him. His mouth twitched upward in an awkward smile as he turned to face Siebren, looking him over, studying him. “How much do you know about me?”

Siebren smiled.

Harold swallowed, nervous.

“It’s no mystery to me why you always smell like a dog, Harold.”

The color drained from Harold’s face.

“You, I mean. You - And - That’s fine? That’s not… You’re…” Words didn’t want to form cohesive sentences. Harold swiped his hands over his breeches, eyes darting to and fro as he felt panic well up inside of him.

“You are not the first of your kind that I have encountered and I doubt that you will be the last.” Siebren said, slowly standing to approach Harold’s chair. “You and the rest of your lunar pack are exceptional. But you think someone like me, someone so wholly connected to stars and the dark of space wouldn’t realise just why you and your entourage are so interested in the moon?”

Harold laughed. Not a happy laugh - something more nervous, something quiet and awkward. He rubbed the back of his neck, and moments afterward, Siebren’s hands came down to rest on his shoulders.

“Harold?” Siebren said, his fingers sliding over Harold’s shirt, kneading into the muscle on his shoulders. 

“Yes?” Harold said, questioningly, tilting his head back to look up at Siebren. 

“If I haven’t judged you yet, don’t think that I ever will.” Siebren smiled. Harold, nervous, slowly met his smile with one of his own.

“That’s… Actually pretty reassuring.” 

Siebren let go of Harold’s shoulders. A beat passed.

Harold got up, leaving his scroll unattended. He turned, facing Siebren, and stared up at him. He was quiet and still, judging the moment, thinking over his actions before reaching for Siebren. Hands grabbed at Siebren slowly, one sliding up his chest and the other up behind his back. Harold tilted his chin upward, and Siebren leaned down, meeting him halfway in a kiss.

Eyes shut as Siebren leaned into the kiss, and Harold felt himself backed into his desk, hands on his sides. He let Siebren take the lead, mirroring his actions in the kiss. Siebren pulled back suddenly, lips wet, and pulled Harold’s thin frames from his face before diving into the kiss again, the glasses clattering onto the desk. Harold’s hand flexed on Siebren’s chest, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him in closer ( if that was even possible ). The kiss turned to tongues, to teeth, and Harold focused wholly on the feeling of Siebren biting at his lower lip, at the way his breathing turned more labored with every movement.

They pulled back.

Siebren hummed, raising his hand to grip Harold’s chin. His thumb gently touched Harold’s bottom lip. Harold smiled, his cheeks flushed red and his chest rising and falling steadily with heavy breaths.

“I wish I could see you,” Siebren said, and his voice was so delicate, so gentle, Harold almost wondered if he hadn’t spoken at all.

“You can See everything, though.” Harold said, leaning as Siebren’s hand cupped the side of his face. He nuzzled into his hand, sighing.

“I can See, but… Sight, proper sight, real sight... “ Siebren breathed, “I want to see you. Not the essence of you, not the way that the Stars interpret you. I want to see  _ you _ .”

"Siebren," Harold said, sliding both of his hands onto Siebren's chest. He leaned back slightly, looking up at Siebren to study his face. After a long moment of contemplation, he reached for the blindfold on Siebren's face, undoing the knot in the back. 

Siebren tensed, just for a moment, and let Harold continue. 

The blindfold fluttered to the floor. Harold stared up into Siebren’s eyes - pale, paler than anything he’d ever seen on anyone before - and he sighed, his lips curling up into a wide smile.

“You can’t see me,” Harold said, running his fingers over Siebren’s cheekbones, holding him closer, “But I can see you, and that’s all I need.”


End file.
